"Right," Bryce said soberly.

"Okay, then." Wilder took out his cell phone. "I've got to make a call."

"Right," Bryce said.

Wilder peered at him. "You all right?"

"I'm not a hero," Bryce said. "I'm an actor."

"Tonight you're both," Wilder said.

"Yeah?" Bryce began to look hopeful.

"Yeah. Remember the bar fight? You were right in there, you were my wingman."

"Right," Bryce said, hope fading. "Except I screwed up."

"You won't screw this up. Althea is counting on you. Lucy is counting on you. I'm counting on you."

Bryce nodded.

"Anything else?"

"It's okay about you and Althea," Bryce said.

Fuck.

"It was my fault, screwing around on her. You didn't know about us."

Oh, crap. "Bryce-"

"We're getting married," Bryce said.

Wilder clapped him on the shoulder. "That's great." You poor son of a bitch.

"People and InStyle are interested in the wedding."

"Uh huh," Wilder said, not a clue what he was talking about. What people?

"I thought you could be my best man," Bryce said. "I mean, if you wanted to be."

Not really. "You bet, buddy. Now you remember the drill here, right?"

"Right," Bryce said. "Maybe after the wedding, Althea and I could rappel off a bridge onto our honeymoon yacht."

"Good idea," Wilder said. "Mention it to her." Before you shove her off the bridge when and if the shooting starts. "Now, I really have to make this call."

"Not a girlfriend, is it?" Bryce said.

"What?"

"The last time, you said it was your girlfriend, but it wasn't. You're on a mission, aren't you?"

"Yes," Wilder said, surprised Bryce was that acute.

"Army stuff?"

"No," Wilder said, and thought, What the hell. "CIA."

"Whoa." Bryce nodded. "Is that who you're calling? The CIA?"

"Yes," Wilder said. "Anything else you need before I go?"

"No." Bryce squared his shoulders. "Anything I can do for you?"

Wilder looked across the bridge to where Nash was punching numbers into his cell phone, his anger back under control. "Just follow orders and don't go near Nash."

"Right." Bryce looked over the rail at the ropes again.

"Hi, baby," Althea said, coming to stand beside him. She looked mad as hell.

"I'm going to take care of you, Althea," Bryce said in his best leading-man voice.

"I know, baby," Althea said and looked past him, fury in her eyes.

Wilder turned and saw Nash talking to Lucy.

"Could you check my harness, J.T.?" Althea asked.

"Uh, yeah." Wilder did the fastest check he'd ever done, essentially making sure it was securely attached to her body and she wouldn't slide through it. Her breasts would help in that matter: good anchor points. "You guys are good to go, then," he said and headed for Lucy, phone in hand.

"Lucy, you have to get Wilder off the damn bridge," Nash said, and Lucy turned around from watching Wilder talking to Bryce and Althea and said, "No."

It was amazing how normal Nash looked standing there, a little tense, but he was always tense before a stunt, that's why his stunts always went well. He didn't look like a soulless, babynapping bastard at all. God, I hate you.

"This is crazy, Lucy," he said, leaning in closer. "This guy, he's got you so paranoid, you're working with no crew. This is no way to make a movie, you can't possibly get-"

"Don't tell me about making movies," Lucy snapped. "It's never been about making movies for you, it's always been about you, you showing off, you getting the girl, you being the fastest gun in the West. I'm sick of it and I'm sick of you." She leaned closer to him. "And I will do whatever is necessary to get Pepper back. If that includes sending you to hell, I will do it with a song in my heart."

His eyes shifted left, and he said, "What are you talking about?"

"I am never going to forgive you for taking Pepper. If you don't stop this stupid plan, and give her back, you're dead. I will see to it. Now get off my set."

"Not a chance," he said, and then J.T. came up behind him and deliberately shoved him out of the way.

Nash wheeled around, and J.T. said, "Back off."

"Fuck you," Nash said and walked off.

"That was immature," Lucy said. "I liked it. Next time knock him off the damn bridge."

Wilder punched buttons on the phone, listened, and then said, "It's me. Did you get the coordinates?" He nodded. "She give you any trouble?" He nodded again. "Bring it on in close." He clicked off and then dialed another number.

"What's going on?" Lucy said.

"LaFavre got the coordinates from Karen. Someone text messaged them to her on his phone."

"Karen just gave him her phone?"

"No." He put his attention back on the phone. "This is Wilder." He held it out so Lucy could hear. Crawford, he mouthed.

"What?" Crawford said.

"We got a lot of shit going on here," Wilder said.

"Just stay out of the way and-"

"Got a five-year-old girl kidnapped."

There was a long silence. "There's nothing that can be done about that right now."

"Letsky is more important than the life of a five-year-old?" Wilder asked, but Lucy could tell he already knew the answer.

"What did you call for?"

"I know where the meet is. Got the coordinates. I'll give them to you, if you do something for me."

"What?"

"You're missing a Major LaFavre. Supposed to be there in one of your birds."

"Yeah?"

"He's not AWOL. You assigned him to me."

"Hell, I don't care. The coordinates?"

"You assigned him to me. If he gets any backlash from this, people are going to find out how bad you fucked this up."

"Okay, hell, fine, I assigned him to you. Give me the coordinates."

"Tango-Alpha, Six, Four, Four, Seven, One, Eight."

"We'll check them out," Crawford said. "But-"

"Take guns when you check it out," Wilder said. "Take real Army guys who know how to shoot and stuff. Or even SEALs."

Crawford hung up and Wilder said, "Asshole," and turned the phone off.

"Will he do it?" Lucy asked.

Wilder nodded. "Yeah, but getting Pepper back is up to us." He started punching numbers into his phone again. "Okay, now we do leverage." He waited, holding out the phone so Lucy could hear.

"She's still breathing and talking," the voice came.

"I'm not as slow as you think, Ghost Boy," Wilder said. "You have something I want back, and I have something you want back."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I've got your helicopter."

There was a long silence. "Bullshit."

"Karen was picking it up at Hunter when she ran into some trouble." Wilder spoke slowly and clearly. "The trouble's a friend of mine named LaFavre and he has your bird. Thus, I have your helicopter. You want it back, you give me Pepper."

"I don't fuckin' believe you."

"Do you need the chopper to pick up the art or just for the rendezvous?" Wilder asked.

Again there was a long silence.

"Answer me," Wilder demanded. "Time's-a-wasting."

"Just the rendezvous."

"Good. You guys do whatever it is you're doing on the bridge. We'll stay out of your way. Bring Pepper to the rendezvous, I'll call in the chopper. Then we trade and you can get the hell out of our lives."

This time Wilder waited.

"Fuck you. All right."

The phone went dead, and Lucy let out her breath. "Is this going to work?" she asked, her heart pounding.

"Hell, yes," Wilder said. "Sufferin' Sappho, woman, have some faith."

"Okay then," Lucy said, really wanting to believe him. "It's showtime."

Chapter 20

Wilder moved to his position near the railing. A container ship pushed by two tugboats came around the bend in the Savannah River, approaching the city's riverfront, about a mile from the bridge. It was much larger than the one they had seen the other day, a real mother of a-

Screw me, he thought and punched in Crawford's number on his satellite phone even as he looked to the right and saw Nash standing at the edge, also staring at the cargo ship, weapon slung over his shoulder, fast-rope tied off to the railing next to him.

Crawford didn't sound happy. "What do you want?" The sound of a helicopter thudded in the background and Wilder knew Crawford was flying toward the meeting location.

"Letsky's art is on the damn cargo ship, isn't it?"

"No."

Liar, Wilder thought angrily. "Don't-"

Crawford cut him off. "Letsky thinks his art is on the ship. Finnegan thought it was. Nash thinks it is. Because we let it leak that it was. There's a container holding cases that look like the cases the art was in on board the ship."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"What difference would it have made?" Crawford was speaking fast, trying to explain his way out of the shit hole he'd dug. "We never thought it would go this far. It was a setup from the very beginning to draw Letsky out to where we could get him. We thought that Finnegan and Letsky would try to steal the art off the ship on the high seas, where we could take them down with no civilians involved. The whole movie thing caught us off guard. That's why we had to scramble and put you on that set."

"The SEAL platoon?"

"They're with me. And they're not going to do a damn thing to stop Nash from taking the stuff. Their job is to take out Letsky."